


he said look up

by alotofthingsdifferent



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: AU, First Dates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:16:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3716524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alotofthingsdifferent/pseuds/alotofthingsdifferent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm just saying," he says softly. Dinner's been long since cleared away, and their empty dessert plates sit waiting to be collected. Brent's got one knee tucked up underneath his leg, and he's turned towards Jonny in the booth, leaning in. "School's important, man, of course it is. Dedication is awesome. But I don't know," he says with a shrug. "There's <i>life,</i> too. You can't forget that."</p>
            </blockquote>





	he said look up

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this picture](http://40.media.tumblr.com/7a284c814bdf89a86273b8eba8d90446/tumblr_mpp089eemc1qd9m5oo1_1280.jpg) because HELLO Brent Seabrook. Thanks to Sarah for the cheerleading, as always!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://alotofthingsdifferent.tumblr.com)!

This is really not Jonny’s scene.

He's a stuffy pre-med student with no desire to go be at some dive with Kaner and Sharpy, but they're tired of him "never living your life, man -- we get school is tough, but live a little!"

He's sitting next to Kaner at the end of the bar, and it's pretty busy. He's annoyed, and he keeps getting elbowed by people coming up to the bar for drinks. He's scowling into his water when the bartender comes to stand in front of him, resting on his forearms on the bar. "Who pissed in your cheerios, man?"

Jonny looks up and meets the dark eyes of the guy who's been serving his buddies drinks all night. He's got a snapback turned backward on his head and he looks like he hasn't shaved in a few days, and his white tshirt hangs loosely around his neck.

"Excuse me?"

The guy grins then, and Jonny scowls back. "Let me guess," the guy says. "I'm good at this."

Jonny shrugs. "Whatever, man."

The guy rubs his hand together and grins. "Ok. These two," he says, waving a thumb at Kaner and Sharpy, "dragged you here even though you hate places like this." 

And ok, that's accurate, but it's just a good guess, Jonny thinks.. 

"You're a student," he continues, and Jonny looks up then, a little intrigued. "Pre-med, and you split your time between long hours studying in the library and long hours studying in your bedroom." Jonny blinks. How -- "And you're cracking down even harder now, because you'll be applying for residency later this year."

Jonny's mouth falls open. "How did you --"

The guy laughs and claps his hands together. "So I'm right?"

Jonny flushes, brows furrowing. "Lucky guess," he mumbles, taking a long gulp of water from his plastic cup.

"Nah, not really," the guy admits. He nods his head towards Sharpy, a guilty grin on his face. "He's my buddy from way back. Told me all about you."

Jonny tilts his head, questioning. "Why?" he asks.

The guy shrugs, a smile still playing on his lips. "I asked.”

"Oh," Jonny says, matter-of-fact. "That makes sense then," and turns away from the bar, checking his watch for the time. Kaner's got a girl between his legs; she's leaning in and whispering in his ear every few minutes, and Kaner's laughing loudly, his head thrown back. Typical, Jonny thinks, and rolls his eyes, looking over Kaner's head for Sharpy.

In what comes as no surprise, Sharpy's got an arm tucked tightly around Abby's waist. He's only ever had eyes for her anyway, and that Jonny can respect. Abby meets his eyes over Kaner's shoulder and smiles sympathetically. She says something to Sharpy and motions over at Jonny. "Toews! Stop being lame!" Sharpy shouts over his shoulder, and Abby laughs, swatting him.

Jonny groans and turns back to the bar, finishing off his water. "You want something else?" the bartender asks, and Jonny shakes his head.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna head out."

"That's too bad, " the guy says, and there's that half-smile again. "I'm Brent, by the way," he says, extending a hand. 

Jonny just stares at him, annoyed, and doesn't shake his hand.

"Ohhhh-kay," Brent says, pulling it back and wiping his hands on his jeans. "Sharpy wasn't kidding, man, wow," he says, just under his breath, and Jonny frowns, leaning in. 

"What was that?"

The guy -- Brent -- chuckles softly. "Nothing, man. Forget I said anything. Have yourself a good night."

Jonny huffs and stands up, shouting to Kaner that he's leaving before grabbing his coat and getting the hell out of there. 

\--

 _why'd you bail?_

Sharpy texts him an hour later, when he's just settled in to bed and opened a book recommended to him by a friend -- a memoir written by a surgeon about his residency experience. He picks up the phone and swipes over the screen.

_bored. had some reading to do._

_a likely story. and always the same one, toews. it’s gettin old._

_you’re getting old._

_har har. you didn't even give him a chance, man._

Him? Jonny thinks.

_didn't give IT a chance, you mean. sorry, man, the bar just isn' t my scene._

_i know that. but i was hoping the barTENDER was._

Jonny frowns and throws his phone aside. There's no way he's dating a bartender, especially not one as cocky as Bill. Or Bob. Whatever his name was. 

Jonny's not interested.

His phone rings five minutes later, and it's Sharpy. He considers not answering, but he knows Sharpy won't relent until he does, so he answers. "What?" he snaps, softening when he hears Abby's voice on the end of the line.

"Hey, Jon," she says. "Sorry about Sharpy. He's just -- trying to help, I guess."

Jonny laughs softly and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Help by what? Trying to set me up with a bartender who I have nothing in common with?"

"How do you know you have nothing in common with him?" Abby replies. "Can't judge a book by its cover, Jonny."

"I --"

"Look. All I'm saying is, I've known Brent for awhile now. He's a really good guy, Jon, and Sharpy went out on a limb even telling him anything about you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jonny asks, slightly offended.

"The minute you sat down Brent was asking," Abby says, and Jonny can hear the smile in her voice. "Who's the guy, Sharpy? Why haven't I met him before? What's his name? What's he like?" 

"Oh," Jonny says, taken aback.

"Patrick didn't want to tell him anything because…” She trails off, and Jonny get it.

"Because I'm a dick, I know. You can say it."

She laughs lightly. "Because you're very dedicated to your education, Jonny." And yeah, that much is true. Jonny honestly can't remember the last time he's been on a date, or to a party, or done anything that didn't involve talking about anatomy and discussing the top hospitals in the country.

"I was kind of a dick," he says, recalling how he refused to even shake Brent's hand. "Tell Sharpy I'm sorry."

"I will. But seriously, Jonny, think about it, ok?"

Jonny breathes out a sigh and falls back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "I'll think about it."

\--

Jonny finds himself back at the bar three nights later. It's a Tuesday, so he's hoping the crowd will be thin, and he knows Brent is working because he'd called Abby to be sure. "If you tell Sharpy --"

"My lips are sealed, Jon. Be nice to him."

To tell the truth, Jonny has no idea what he's doing. The guy might be good looking, but Jonny doubts he's his type. He probably works three nights a week and spends the rest of the time hanging out with his bros or working some other part-time job with no future. Jonny has standards, and the guy in the white t-shirt behind the bar probably doesn't even come close to meeting them.

He pulls up a stool in the same spot he sat the other night and waits for Brent to notice him sitting there. (It doesn't take long. Aside from an older guy sitting a few stools down, Jonny's the only one in the place.)

Brent does a double take, but doesn't smile. "Didn't expect to see you in here again," he says, dunking a glass into a sink full of soapy water. 

"I'm Jonny," he says, holding his hand out. Brent's eyes go from his hand to his face and back again, and Jonny expects to be left hanging. Instead, Brent grips his fingers with a wet hand.

"Brent," he says, "in case you don't remember."

"No, yeah, I remember," Jonny says, palming the back of his neck. "Sorry for being a dick, I guess?"

Brent quirks an eyebrow, and Jonny can't tell if he's amused or annoyed. "You guess?"

'I'm, uh. Not good at this," he says, making a vague gesture with his hand. "Don't get out much, I mean. Kinda keep to myself."

"No." Brent says, and Jonny's pretty sure he's teasing now. "Really?"

Jonny goes a little red. "So anyway, uh. Yeah. I just wanted to stop in, y'know, say hello."

Brent grabs a rag and starts wiping down the bar. He's not looking at Jonny when he says, "Why?"

"You're not going to make this easy for me, are you," Jonny says. 

Brent looks over and smiles, and Jonny's a little surprised at the way his own stomach somersaults. "Nope."

Jonny's clueless, though. He hasn't asked anyone out in ages, he doesn't even know if he wants to ask this guy out, so he just stands there awkwardly for awhile, watching the TV above the bar and scrolling through his phone.

"You really are bad at this," Brent says, and he's standing right in front of Jonny now, looking just as he had the other night -- snapback, white tshirt, three-beard.

"Uh," Jonny says. "Yeah. Sorry."

"Look, man. I'm sure Sharpy told you I think you're smokin' hot," he says, and Jonny flushes, embarrassed. "So if you're interested, cool, I'd love to take you out." He shrugs his shoulders. "If not, well. I'm not really sure what you're doing here."

Jonny's not really sure what he's doing here either, actually, but something about Brent's directness does it for him.

"Ok."

"Ok? Brent says, and there's that smirk again. 

"Ok, yeah. You can take me out."

Brent rolls his eyes and laughs softly. "Gee, thanks Princess."

"What?" Jonny says, defensive. "I did that wrong too?"

"No, man," Brent says, holding his hands up. "It's cool. You free Friday night? I'm off."

"I was going to study for an exam I have next week," Jonny says, mentally checking the calendar to remember the date of the test. 

"I promise to have you home before you turn into a pumpkin."

Jonny huffs out a laugh, surprising both of them. "Enough with the princess references," he says. "But yeah. Ok. Friday night."

Brent pulls out a bar napkin and scribbles his number on the corner, then leans in and tucks it in the pocket of Jonny's button-down, his fingertips brushing Jonny's collarbone when he pulls back. "Text me your address. I'll pick you up at 7."

\--

He stresses a bit over what to wear. He’s expecting apps at the bowling alley, to be honest, so he decides on his old snandby, dark jeans and his favorite white tee. He throws a casual suit coat on over it, just to be safe. 

“Hey,” Brent says, one hand resting on the steering wheel as Jonny slides into the car. “Good to see you.”

“Thanks,” Jonny says lamely, fumbling with his seatbelt. 

They don’t say much on the drive, but the silence isn’t as uncomfortable as Jonny expected. To say he’s surprised when they pull up in front of a pretty decent little Italian place is an understatement, and it must show on his face.

“You expected something else?” Brent asks, knocking his elbow against Jonny’s before opening the restaurant door for him.

“Uh,” Jonny says sheepishly. “Something like that.”

\--

“So tell me about yourself," Brent says over dinner. They're tucked in a dimly-lit booth in the back, and Jonny's well on his way to buzzed off the nice bottle of wine Brent sprung for. 

Jonny shrugs and finishes his mouthful before speaking. "I'm pre-med, as you know. Grew up in Winnipeg, moved down here for school."

Brent nods, watching Jonny with interest. "And what else? I know you're a student, man, but there's more to you than that."

Jonny takes another sip of wine and leans back in the booth. "I don't know," he admits. "School's kind of -- taken up a lot of my time the past four years." 

"I get that," Brent says. "But you've gotta have other interests, right?"

Jonny shrugs again, takes another bite of his pasta. "Hockey, I guess?"

Brent perks up at that, leaning forward. "Yeah? Me too."

"I played, when I was younger," Jonny goes on. "I was pretty good, mom and dad thought I could go all the way, even offered to send me to school to play, but my heart wasn't in it. I love the sport, don't get me wrong, but..." He trails off, taking another sip of wine.

"Sounds a lot like me," Brent says. "I got hurt, though, put me out of commission. I moped out it for awhile, blamed a lot of people. I was in denial for a long time. But I eventually got over it and went into law, and now --"

"Wait," Jonny says, stopping him, shocked. "Law? Like, you're a lawyer?"

Brent laughs, and Jonny's stomach does that somersault thing again. "Yeah, a little over a year now. You're surprised?"

"Uh," Jonny says, ashamed that he made assumptions about Brent. "Yeah, I guess. I thought --"

"You thought I was some lazy partyboy who bartended a couple nights a week and couch-surfed between his buddies' places?" Brent says, but there's no heat behind it. He's smiling warmly, obviously amused.

"If I say yes, are you gonna walk out?" Jonny asks.

Brent laughs again, and yeah, Jonny could get used hearing that. "Nah. I think I'll stick around awhile longer."

He learns that Brent works at a firm downtown that focuses on family law. He learns that Brent worked his ass off in school, barely left his apartment, and lost a lot of friends and a boyfriend because of it. (He learns that he really, really likes Brent’s smile.)

"School was really important to me," he admits. "It was all I concentrated on. My friends got tired of me snapping at them all the time, got sick of me always flaking on plans. My boyfriend, well. He wanted more than I could give him at the time."

Jonny can relate.

Not to the boyfriend part -- he hasn't dated anyone seriously in years -- but he can't remember the last time he talked to his best friend Dan, and Sharpy and Kaner asking him to hang out is happening less and less lately.

"I'm just saying," he says softly. Dinner's been long since cleared away, and their empty dessert plates sit waiting to be collected. Brent's got one knee tucked up underneath his leg, and he's turned towards Jonny in the booth, leaning in. "School's important, man, of course it is. Dedication is awesome. But I don't know," he says with a shrug. "There's _life,_ too. You can't forget that."

Jonny stares at Brent for a long moment, their eyes locked in a heated gaze. The moment's broken by the waitress, who clears the tables and hands Brent the bill. Jonny shakes his head, insists on paying half, but Brent won't even consider it.

"No way," he says. "Not a chance. You can get it next time."

Jonny recognizes now that Brent's flirting, and he's just buzzed enough to let himself flirt back.

"Ok," he says, reaching the small distance between them to brush his knuckles along Brent's neck. "But on one condition."

Brent swallows, his tongue swiping out over his lower lip. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

Jonny leans in. "You teach me how to live a little." Brent's lips on his are a really good start.


End file.
